


Durasteel Guitars

by subtropicalStenella



Category: Star Wars: Rebels
Genre: Depression, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Recovery, Space Dixie Chicks, Terrible Country Music
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-18
Updated: 2017-10-18
Packaged: 2019-01-18 23:14:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 593
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12398241
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/subtropicalStenella/pseuds/subtropicalStenella
Summary: Recovery is a long and winding road. Dusty and twisted and--oh hell I'm starting to TALK like those stupid songs.





	Durasteel Guitars

The worst part was how  _ quiet  _ the Ghost was, now. Sure everyone was a lot more serious about the Rebellion and, y’know, life and stuff but…

 

See, Kanan used to sing. It wasn't like he was  _ amazing  _ at it or anything, but he had a decent baritone and harmonized pretty well with whatever was on the radio. A decade and a half of hiding out and working as a layman/hired hand/dockworker/bartender/bouncer in rundown bars had affected his taste in music. He liked the kind of music about fishing and hunting and farming and beloved-but-beat-to-shit old hovertrucks. Songs played _ in  _ bars _ about  _ bars and beer and women raining hell, property damage and murder on their dirtbag cheating husbands. It was  _ awful,  _ especially because it was so damn  _ catchy. _

And he did it  _ all the time _ . Tuning up the Phantom and the guns, cooking, in the  _ refresher _ . Sabine liked to sing with him, even though she sang more like a crow than a  _ wren,  _ and Zeb could be relied on to provide a weird, thrumming bassline and clicking percussion deep in his throat if he knew the song. Even Hera would join in sometimes, when she wasn't rolling her eyes at the cheesy lyrics or pretending she was too busy to let Kanan pull her away from whatever she was doing to swing her around the kitchen or common area. 

 

But then… Everything happened. Maul, Vader… the holocron… the _Temple_ , Ahsoka...

It was a little better now, and we talked. A lot. Kanan forgave me--told me he'd never blamed me in the first place--and I've started to forgive myself, but…

Kanan was different. Quieter, more serious. He meditated more, talked less, no one had heard him laugh,  _ really  _ laugh, since before…

 

He didn't even flirt with Hera anymore. 

 

It was better, it really was, especially since, y’know, I made a complete idiot out of myself, lost the Phantom and almost got myself _and_ Sabine _and_ Zeb and _everyone_ killed and Kanan saved my dumb ass _again._

But little things still set him off sometimes. He moved so carefully now, always had his hand out to guide himself. We'd tried not to celebrate when Kanan finally took up his turn on some of the chores again and offered to make breakfast. Apparently the  _ snap  _ of the hot grease was enough indication to keep him from burning himself, his hands moving with unnatural quickness when he needed to. It had been almost okay. He sassed back at Sabine when she reminded him that his eggs were  _ boring  _ because he refused to put diced peppers in. He might even have smiled when Hera bumped his hip with hers.

Except the spoon he'd been using to stir had rolled away from where he'd put it down, and it took him a second to find it, groping around on the counter. No one said anything, no one  _ breathed _ , but the almost-smile was gone again. 

 

So when when I found Hera sitting underneath the hatch to the gunner's pod with her face in her hands and Sabine's arms around her shoulders, I thought maybe he'd… That something had…

But then Sabine looks up, points upwards, and mouths  _ Listen! _

Hera looks up too, and she's smiling through the tears running down her face.

 

So I listened. 

 

And under the sounds of a hyperspanner clanging around inside the workings of an ion cannon, is the quiet, raspy, out-of-practice pronouncement that somebody named Earl had to die. 

  
And I finally started to believe that I hadn't ruined  _ everything. _


End file.
